


of teen magazines and sappy romance songs

by notgillian



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Also fuck, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BTW, I hate myself, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Race is his roomate and wants it to End, Teen Magazines, jack becomes increasingly and utterly ridiculous as time goes on, jack is a sappy-ass 12 year old who has it bad, jack???? where the HELL did you get those teen magazines, just like, ooc?? probably bu t you know what i dont care, race needs new friends, side Racetrack Higgins/Spot Conlon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 10:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notgillian/pseuds/notgillian
Summary: Jack realizes he is in love with his good buddy Davey, so in true 12 year old fashion, he takes (teen) magazine quizzes instead of listening to his friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> can you believe newsies single-handedly pulled me out of my writing rut just because i'm desperate for content wow crazy  
> I didn't edit this and I wrote it at like 2-3 last night so like, if there's an error glaring at you please tell me.  
> Feel free to leave any (constructive) criticism! I'd love to hear your thoughts!  
> Anyway have a good day thank you!

What Race did not expect to see when he came home from his date with Spot was Jack Kelly sitting on the floor of their shared living room, countless magazines sprawled out.

“Jack, what the hell? What are you doi-wait is that Tiger Beat? What are you, twelve?” Race asked, honestly concerned with what he was seeing. After no reply, he waved in front of Jack’s face, effectively getting his attention. “Dude, what the hell are you doing?”

Jack frowned and took his earbuds out. Race wouldn’t admit it, but he’s recognized it as an Ed Sheeran song. One of the romantic ones. “I was just doing… research. Yeah, research.”

 _“What kind of research requires J-14?!”_ Race cried. This was getting ridiculous. “Jack, just tell me what you’re doing and why you’re listening to awful romantic songs!”

“Do you think I have more of a girl-next-door or rocker chick style?” Race shot him a frustrated look. “Okay, fine! I’ll tell you! I like Davey. _Like-like_ Davey,” he whispered the last part as he cupped his hands around his mouth. God, he really was twelve. A twelve year old oblivious idiot, apparently.

“Alright, Jack, so what's the problem here?” Race asked, “Just tell him how you feel.”

Jack looked scandalized. “But what if he doesn't like me! Our friendship would be doomed. There's no way I can do that, which is why I made a foolproof plan to determine whether he likes me back.”

Race sighed and rubbed his temples. “So, let me get this straight. Well, that word seems a bit inappropriate considering the situation. Let me try to understand this: You finally realize you’re in love with-”

“I said I liked him! Love was not mentioned!” Jack interrupted.

Race shot him a glance. “You finally realize you’re in love with Davey, but you’re not gonna tell him because you’re afraid he’s gonna reject you. Are you sure we’re talking about the same Davey? As in Davey ‘The Walking Mouth’ Jacobs? Jack, there’s no way he doesn’t like you back. Just admit your feelings for him, God.”

Jack’s eyes grew wide. “Why do you say that? Did he tell you?”

“Uh, well, no.”

“Then how can you be sure? Sorry, but I am not gonna tell him anything until I’m sure,” Jack said. Why did Jack decide he trusted a teen magazine over one of his closest friends? It was ridiculous. He offered one of the magazines to Race and asked if he wanted to take one of the “normal” quizzes in it. Race, questioning why the hell he thought becoming roommates with Jack was a good idea, refused the offer and excused himself. Despite having just coming back from a date with his boyfriend, Race texted Spot anyway and told him to pick him up.

 

“Race! Spot!” Jack’s yelling interrupted the boys.

Spot removed his hands from Race’s hair, made a face, and muttered, “What does he want now? Can’t he bother you some other time?” He then called out, “What do you want, Kelly?”

Jack burst into the room. “Race, d’you still have that Magic 8 Ball? The magazines were inconclusive, so the situation calls for desperate measures,” he explained.

As Race looked under his bed for the toy, Spot asked, “Magic 8 Ball? ‘Magazines inconclusive?’ What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Jack realized how whipped he is for Davey, but won’t take my advice and ask him out. Apparently, he trusts magazines directed at preteen girls more than his loyal friends,” Race explained. Once he’d fished out the sphere, he handed it to Jack. “You’re lucky I don’t throw anything else. Now, get out so I can spend time with my boyfriend.”

“Why is he bothering us with this? Doesn’t he have, like, at least ten more options?” Spot asked as Race sat down beside him.

Race sighed, “God, I really do not know. I’m sure he’d probably tell Davey or Crutchie if Davey wasn’t, y’know, the person in question and Crutchie wasn’t his roommate. Plus, I live with him, so there’s really no escaping… that. Can we not talk about him anymore? I wanna get back to what we were doing before and he really kills the mood.”

 

If Race thought Jack’s newly-discovered interest for Davey was bad before, Jack in the presence of him was much worse. Firstly, he refused to make prolonged eye-contact with Davey. Then, when he looked away, he blushed like the lovesick fool he was. Davey was hardly any better. He adopted a permanent concerned expression about 20 minutes into the night, lessened only when they started the movie. Despite Jack’s unusual (stupid!) behavior, the two sat next to each other during the movie. Race could feel himself grow more annoyed with every loving glance between the two (disgusting) assholes. First, their “predicament” ruined his time with his boyfriend, and now they were destroying his friend-time too! The audacity of the two oblivious losers.

They were insufferable even while watching the movie (a boring rom-com picked out by someone that most definitely was not Race), flinching when their legs touched or when they reached for the same piece of popcorn. Race was not aware he had befriended two twelve year olds. He looked to Spot for reassurance, or at least someone to sympathize with him, but was sorely disappointed when he saw the King of Brooklyn was immersed in the plot of the movie.  
Race needed new friends.

 

When Jack came moaning to Race for help, he put his hands on his forehead in resignation and just asked, “Do you want to listen to your friend, or do you want to deal with your crush in the way of a twelve year old?” Jack only huffed in indignation in response. “Give me your phone,” Race demanded. He was sick of Jack’s insufferable behavior. At that, Jack raised an eyebrow before refusing. “I promise I won’t text him, or whatever. Just give it to me, Jesus Christ.” Jack eventually tossed him his phone and Race downloaded on of those “Love Calculator” apps. “Here,” he said as he tossed it back.

“Love Calculator? Race, what the hell did you download?” Jack furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Alright, I can’t believe I have to explain this to you, by the way, you put your name here and ‘your crush,’ AKA Davey, here,” Race pointed at the places, “then, press ‘calculate’ and rejoice. Or moan in despair.”  
As Jack typed in the names he asked Race, “So, how do you know about this, anyway?”

“I have a younger sister. Two, if I were to include you,” he replied.

Jack groaned. “It says were 32% compatible! This is bullshit!”

“Oh my god, just put in your last name or something!”

 

“I’m gonna tell him,” Jack tells Race one day. He thought he would never hear those words and would have to deal with his awful pining forever.

“Finally. You finally decided to take my advice from the very beginning, huh?” Race said, relieved.

“Nah, I was reading an article in one of the magazines and it said-”

“You still trust a teen magazine more than you roommate and best friend? You’re impossible.” While he was frustrated with his friend, he was glad he decided to confess his feelings, even if Jack was motivated by something directed at thirteen year olds.

 

The next time Race saw Jack, he was with Davey, holding hands. _Gross._ “So, I see you two sorted your mess out. Congrats, we were all waiting. Unfortunately I lost a lot of money to Crutchie, damn him, he had faith in you both,” Race said.

Both boys blushed and Jack uncomfortably laughed and rubbed his neck. “Ha, yeah wait ‘til you hear how I asked him out.”

Race raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“A fortune teller. I rigged it. All the answers said ‘someone will admit their feelings for you and ask you out right after reading this.’ And then I told him. Romeo wanted to play, which complicated things, but I think it turned out alright in the end.” He smiled at Davey. Yeah, _gross_.

“Wait you rigged it? I thought it was just a coincidence!” Davey laughed.

 

Later, when Race called Spot, he told him that Jack and Davey finally got their shit together.

“Wait, he did not ask Davey out using a paper fortune teller!”

“He did! Hey, do you wanna come over later and celebrate Jack not having to bother me for relationship advice? I could make pasta.”

“Oh, I am so there,” Spot said, the affection obvious in his voice, despite trying to fight it.

**Author's Note:**

> end race's suffering rip  
> By the way, when Jack interrupted Spot n Race they were having a Disney movie marathon and Spot was playing w Race's hair im sorry i dont make the rules.  
> Anyway, thank you for reading!


End file.
